quickly put on my panties and pants. Rob looked at me the whole time with a look of shock on his face. I took a step forward and kissed him on the cheek.
“I’m sorry, Rob.” I felt a lot of things—sadness, awkwardness, embarrassment, but more than anything I was filled with relief. I, at least, was remaining true to the promise.
24
Max
A couple of months into the Summer session after my sophomore year, Katie called. We hadn’t talked since before the end of the school year, but I blamed that on the fact that we were both busy with advanced studies. Of course the reality was that I was afraid to call her after the disaster with Erin, and then life got complicated again, and, well, here we were.
“Katie!” I answered when I saw her number.
“Heya Max.” She sounded kind of wistful.
“I’m so glad you called.” She didn’t reply, which scared me a bit. “Are you okay? You don’t sound like yourself.” Which was true—Katie was always the passionate and excitable one. More often than not she would do something crazy to make me smile. Quiet and restrained wasn’t her style.
“I just miss you is all.” As she spoke the words my heart leapt. I missed her terribly, but we had parted on such bad terms a few months earlier I didn’t think we would ever be close again. She hated me for dating Erin, who I knew had a tendency to alienate people, and she hated me for abandoning the promise, and I didn’t really blame her even though I hadn’t. I told her Erin and I had broken up on the phone afterward, but she didn’t seem impressed. More than anything I knew I had disappointed her.
In the few conversations we had since then there were so many things I wanted to tell her, but none of them seemed appropriate. I mean, you don’t tell the woman who has lost faith in you that you keep dreaming about her in a wet t-shirt at your swim meet. I knew I had to rebuild a foundation of trust, but I just hadn’t known how to do that with my own life swirling around me.
“Oh Katie, I miss you, too!” I decided to make an attempt at rebuilding that trust. “I know I’ve been an idiot in so many ways.” She was quiet. “You deserve better than me,” I finally whispered.
“No. Don’t say that. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve always known that, but sometimes I just need to be reminded of it.” Her voice was still sad and thoughtful. It was killing me, and I was going to tell her I loved her, but her voice suddenly brightened, and she said, “But you know, that’s not as important as getting your opinion on The Walking Dead !”
I laughed, relieved. This was the Katie I knew and loved. “It’s really going downhill. I warned you of this. The comic is way better.”
“You’re crazy. The comic is missing some of the best character dynamics you see in the show.”
And thanks to The Walking Dead Katie and I began a conversation that was like every conversation we’d had since we met at twelve years old, whether it was Firefly or The Avengers or even porn we’d examine as we huddled around my laptop. The topics of the conversations changed, but the spirit was always the same—a joy in discovery, in sharing opinions, in gentle insults, and, more than anything, shared enthusiasm. Our conversations never got old, and our current phone discussion reinforced that. We were having a blast.
“Okay, I’m going to give in on The Walking Dead and reluctantly admit defeat on Peter Jackson.” I laughed. “It’s funny, you and my girlfriend are so similar. She is constantly giving me a hard time about the same things. Thanksgiving is just not going to be fair—two against one.”
There was a pause, and then Katie replied, “You have a girlfriend?”
“Didn’t Mom or Dad tell you? Well, shit, obviously not. Don’t worry, Katie. She’s nothing like Erin. Like I said, she actually reminds me of you. She’s nice and sweet and loves the same things I do.”
“You’re bringing
“I’m sorry, Rob.” I felt a lot of things—sadness, awkwardness, embarrassment, but more than anything I was filled with relief. I, at least, was remaining true to the promise.
24
Max
A couple of months into the Summer session after my sophomore year, Katie called. We hadn’t talked since before the end of the school year, but I blamed that on the fact that we were both busy with advanced studies. Of course the reality was that I was afraid to call her after the disaster with Erin, and then life got complicated again, and, well, here we were.
“Katie!” I answered when I saw her number.
“Heya Max.” She sounded kind of wistful.
“I’m so glad you called.” She didn’t reply, which scared me a bit. “Are you okay? You don’t sound like yourself.” Which was true—Katie was always the passionate and excitable one. More often than not she would do something crazy to make me smile. Quiet and restrained wasn’t her style.
“I just miss you is all.” As she spoke the words my heart leapt. I missed her terribly, but we had parted on such bad terms a few months earlier I didn’t think we would ever be close again. She hated me for dating Erin, who I knew had a tendency to alienate people, and she hated me for abandoning the promise, and I didn’t really blame her even though I hadn’t. I told her Erin and I had broken up on the phone afterward, but she didn’t seem impressed. More than anything I knew I had disappointed her.
In the few conversations we had since then there were so many things I wanted to tell her, but none of them seemed appropriate. I mean, you don’t tell the woman who has lost faith in you that you keep dreaming about her in a wet t-shirt at your swim meet. I knew I had to rebuild a foundation of trust, but I just hadn’t known how to do that with my own life swirling around me.
“Oh Katie, I miss you, too!” I decided to make an attempt at rebuilding that trust. “I know I’ve been an idiot in so many ways.” She was quiet. “You deserve better than me,” I finally whispered.
“No. Don’t say that. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve always known that, but sometimes I just need to be reminded of it.” Her voice was still sad and thoughtful. It was killing me, and I was going to tell her I loved her, but her voice suddenly brightened, and she said, “But you know, that’s not as important as getting your opinion on The Walking Dead !”
I laughed, relieved. This was the Katie I knew and loved. “It’s really going downhill. I warned you of this. The comic is way better.”
“You’re crazy. The comic is missing some of the best character dynamics you see in the show.”
And thanks to The Walking Dead Katie and I began a conversation that was like every conversation we’d had since we met at twelve years old, whether it was Firefly or The Avengers or even porn we’d examine as we huddled around my laptop. The topics of the conversations changed, but the spirit was always the same—a joy in discovery, in sharing opinions, in gentle insults, and, more than anything, shared enthusiasm. Our conversations never got old, and our current phone discussion reinforced that. We were having a blast.
“Okay, I’m going to give in on The Walking Dead and reluctantly admit defeat on Peter Jackson.” I laughed. “It’s funny, you and my girlfriend are so similar. She is constantly giving me a hard time about the same things. Thanksgiving is just not going to be fair—two against one.”
There was a pause, and then Katie replied, “You have a girlfriend?”
“Didn’t Mom or Dad tell you? Well, shit, obviously not. Don’t worry, Katie. She’s nothing like Erin. Like I said, she actually reminds me of you. She’s nice and sweet and loves the same things I do.”
“You’re bringing
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